30.1 INTRODUCTION
A classic debate over the difference in methodology between the Geistes- and the Naturwissenschaften, usually translated as the human and the natural sciences, took place between Wilhelm Dilthey and Wilhelm Windelband in the late nineteenth century. The debate between Dilthey and Windelband does not turn on the same questions as do post-nineteenth-century discussions that are more widely known. Instead, the Dilthey–Windelband debate has its roots in upheavals in German university and research practices at the beginning of the nineteenth century. The debate, and the nineteenth century discussions more generally, certainly are relevant to discussions of whether true science has a necessarily a priori or law-governed (nomothetic) core. But they are also relevant to the question of how to construct research programs that involve cooperation between sciences, and to broader questions of interpretation and understanding in theory assessment.
30.2 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY CONTEXT
Perhaps the most familiar context in which philosophers are used to viewing the debate over the independence of the human sciences is the defense, by Heidegger and Gadamer, of the independence of their hermeneutic theories from the logical positivist thesis of the unity of science. The debate between Heidegger and Carnap on language and metaphysics is emblematic of this split.1
Because Windelband defends the nomothetic (law-governed) foundations of the physical or natural sciences, and Dilthey defends the “independence” of the human sciences, it is tempting to analyze the debate between Dilthey and Windelband as an earlier manifestation of the conflict between Carnap’s and Neurath’s unity of science and Heidegger’s and Gadamer’s hermeneutics. This would be a mistake. Windelband was not defending the unity of science or of scientific language. Instead, he defended essential distinctions between types of science. Dilthey was not defending hermeneutics in the Heideggerian or Gadamerian sense. Rather, he was defending an earlier version more akin to that of Herder and, especially, Schleiermacher, the philosopher who had been the focus of most of Dilthey’s early career.
Finally, the debate between Dilthey and Windelband had less to do with the overcoming of metaphysics than with the status of distinct types of science, and the relationships between them. This is partly due to Dilthey’s and Windelband’s own philosophical views, but it is also influenced strongly by the nineteenth century context.
The nineteenth century saw a renewal of the German (then Prussian) university system, with the founding of the University of Berlin in 1810. Wilhelm von Humboldt, Fichte, and Schleiermacher saw the universities as dedicated to a particular ideal of Wissenschaft. The word usually is translated into English as “science,” but this does not capture the domain to which “Wissenschaft” was applied, especially in the early part of the nineteenth century. As John Merz points out, “Fichte, whose whole doctrine was, according to French and English ideas, almost the reverse of scientific, uses the word Wissenschaftslehre to denote and characterize his system.”2 Merz continues:
In fact the German word for science has a much wider meaning than science has in French or English; it applies alike to all the studies which are cultivated under the roof of alma mater; it is an idea specially evolved out of the German university system, where theology, jurisprudence, medicine, and the special philosophical studies are all said to be treated “scientifically,” and to form together the universal, all-embracing edifice of human knowledge (p. 170).
In its classic expression, Wissenschaft was a term for an intellectual endeavor shared by researchers at the university. The university faculties were intended, not as separate institutions with distinct specialties, but as departments of a single enterprise working cooperatively.
The universities of Jena and of Berlin became well known for work that fell squarely within the classic ideal. In Berlin, the work of Leopold Ranke in history, Friedrich Schleiermacher in hermeneutics, and von Humboldt in history and in language exemplify the ideal of Wissenschaft as it was understood early in the nineteenth century. In Jena, the Romantic tradition associated with Goethe and Schelling, which blends research into natural science with humanistic inquiry, had its Blütezeit during the first half of the century.
By the middle of the nineteenth century, the positivist and empiricist philosophies of Auguste Comte and John Stuart Mill had made their way into translation, and into discussions of scientific methodology. Closer to home, German materialism, spearheaded by Emil du Bois-Reymond, was in its prime in the 1850s and 1860s. The broad definition of the word Wissenschaft came under increasing pressure throughout the nineteenth century. Merz traces this pressure to the increasing influence, in Germany, of the quite different French and British definitions of scientific research, along with the impressive progress made in the empirical and formal sciences over the nineteenth century. But there were also more philosophical pressures, coming from the materialist, empiricist, and positivist philosophical traditions.
Moreover, during this time, the faculties of philosophy expanded to include natural sciences, including chemistry and physics.3 Researchers in the philosophical and medical faculties did work in biology and in physiology. One of the greatest physiologists and physicists of the nineteenth century, Hermann von Helmholtz, was trained in the medical faculty. The ideal of the scientific researcher also underwent a change. Wilhelm von Humboldt’s brother Alexander was a significant stimulus for this change, embarking on lengthy voyages of discovery and research into living and geological phenomena. When Alexander returned from his voyages in the 1820s, 1820 he inspired others, including Johannes Müller, Ernst Haeckel, and even Charles Darwin, to take voyages of their own.4 Humboldt, Müller, Haeckel, and Darwin clearly were engaging in scientific research. But, while all were academics, this research was not done within the university system, within the traditional Fakultäten. Similarly, in 1845 Gustav Magnus formed a group that later became the Berlin Physical Society. Though Magnus was a professor at the University, the Berlin Physical Society was an independent research group, which met at Magnus’s home and used his private laboratories for scientific research. Later, Emil du Bois-Reymond and Werner von Siemens founded similar laboratories and research groups outside the university.5 Freud and Helmholtz were among the talents who cut their teeth on this extra-university laboratory system.
I concur with Reill, then, in arguing that we ought not to conceive of the narrative of the Geisteswissenschaften that emerged in the nineteenth century as a reaction to “Enlightenment scientism.”6 The pressures were more immediate. Emil du Bois-Reymond, Eduard Zeller, and others gave famous lectures in which they advised that philosophy and history restrict themselves to the methods of the empirical, or natural, sciences. The universities at Berlin and at Jena were arenas of constant debate about the relative merits and methodologies of the empirical sciences and of the disciplines of philosophy, philology and linguistics, and history.
Beginning in the 1830s and 1840s, 1840 an extraordinary group of scholars taught at the Friedrich-Wilhelms-Universität, now the Humboldt-Universität, in Berlin. These included Adolf Trendelenburg, Emil du Bois-Reymond, and Heymann Steinthal, whose close associate Moritz Lazarus would join him in the 1870s. Meanwhile, the university at Jena was the academic home of luminaries including Karl L. Reinhold, J. G. Fichte, G. W. F. Hegel, Friedrich W. J. Schelling, Wilhelm von Humboldt, and Friedrich von Schlegel. Later, Kuno Fischer and Gottlob Frege joined the faculty. The university at Jena fostered the beginnings of the Southwest School of neo-Kantianism to which Wilhelm Windelband belonged, which later took root in Baden.
In the 1830s, 1830 the topic of Erkenntnistheorie, loosely translated as the theory of cognition, began to gain traction in the universities. Early works in the Erkenntnistheorie tradition, including work by Georg Friedrich Benecke, Schleiermacher, and Reinhold, were broadly Kantian in approach.7 Nonetheless, developments in the sciences, even in the very early parts of the nineteenth century, put into question certain elements of Kant’s theory of the sciences. Kant’s model for law-
governed explanation in the natural sciences is Newtonian physics. In the Metaphysical Foundations of Natural Science, Kant remarks that “in every special doctrine of nature only so much science proper can be found as there is mathematics in it.”8 Using this criterion, Kant disqualifies biology and psychology as proper sciences. Over the nineteenth century, biology and psychology proved to be particularly interesting cases. Materialism, positivism, and empiricism in philosophy and in science blended new advances in empirical psychology and in the physiology of perception with philosophical methods and analysis, in conceiving the basis for knowledge of external phenomena. (Empirical psychology and physiology of perception were often indistinguishable during this period.) John Locke and David Hume had established an early version of the “science of man” project, based on the desire to investigate the operation and limits of the human mind as a basis for the study of human knowledge.9 Hume turned the methods of natural science, especially observation and induction, on the human mind in endeavoring to become the “Newton of the mind.”
At the end of the eighteenth century, in Kant’s view, there was still no true Newton of the mind: no general mathematical laws for the association of impressions had been given. In the first half of the nineteenth century, work by Johann Friedrich Herbart, Wilhelm Wundt, and Gustav Theodor Fechner, among others, contributed to the founding of empirical psychology as a science demonstrably governed by, if not Newtonian laws, at least dynamic principles. As Herbart puts it:
It is alleged…that mathematics treat only of quantities, whereas actions and states of greatly different qualities are the subject of psychology. […] It may be sufficient to assert that however great the number of fictitious qualities which a man may distinguish in his mind, he certainly cannot deny that over and above them there is an infinite variety of quantities determining mental action.10
Herbart argues that his laws aim to describe the quantitative variation of sensations and of thoughts, and their association and interaction with each other, in the same way that Newton’s mechanics describes the interaction of material phenomena (pp. 253–4).
Over the nineteenth century empirical psychologists and physiologists of sensation turned the methods of the empirical sciences on psychology, using observation to record responses to stimuli, as one would record the movement of an object in response to impact in physics.11 In general, the nineteenth century saw the analysis of waves, whether of sound or of light, put on a rigorous mathematical foundation, which in turn allowed for unprecedented advances in the qualitative analysis of sensation. Kant’s criterion that any true science ought to be founded on mathematics now seemed to allow psychology, at least, to be treated as a proper science.
There are several ways to interpret these developments, each with methodological consequences. One approach is to question Kant’s classification. If psychology has a mathematical foundation similar to Newton’s mechanics, then Kant’s exclusion of psychology from the status of a true science is mistaken. Another possibility is to argue, as Hume had earlier, that the true methodological foundation even of Newton’s science is inductive, not deductive, and to argue on these grounds for the methodological unity of psychology and physics. This was the approach taken by John Stuart Mill (1806–73). Mill argues, in his System of Logic, for a set of rules of induction based on associationist psychology.12 Mill insists that not only associationist psychology, but also our account of scientific theory building must restrict itself to claims that can be given a justification using the methods of the empirical sciences. His views on this score are one of the motivations for the well-known debate between Mill and William Whewell (1794–1866).
Even Millian and Humean associationism rely on ampliative inference, however. They allow for rules of association that have a broader validity than their original inductive basis. Another approach to psychology, in its relationship to epistemology, was to argue that psychology and physics both describe the properties and interaction of matter, and that all scientific explanation is in essence a description of material phenomena. This materialist position gained adherents in the mid-nineteenth century, with a particular flowering of German materialist works in the 1850s: Ludwig Büchner, Force and Material (1855), Jacob Moleschott, The Circulation of Life (1852), Carl Vogt, Superstition and Science (1855), and Heinrich Czolbe, The New Presentation of Sensualism (1855). These materialist philosophers, many of whom were scientists, derived from psychology and the physiology of perception the view that mental phenomena and physical phenomena both are manifestations of the properties of matter, so that there is no essential difference between them. The human sciences are equivalent to the natural sciences: history and sociology are governed by natural laws, the same kind of natural laws as those governing the motion of the planets.
30.3 THE GEISTESWISSENSCHAFTEN AND THE NATURWISSENSCHAFTEN
By the third quarter of the nineteenth century, materialism and positivism had made significant gains, especially in Germany and in Britain. The methods of the natural sciences had been refined as well, both in the domain of experiment, and in the formal, mathematical foundations of the sciences. The tradition of the Geisteswissenschaften is to defend the independence of a domain of questions from the resulting trend of appeal to the explanatory methods of the natural sciences as fundamental or even exhaustive. In his analysis of the Geisteswissenschaften, Dilthey responds to what are seen as defects in both sides of the argument between materialism and idealism.13 Dilthey sees Hegelian and Fichtean idealism as removing human agency from its natural environment into a noumenal or ideal realm, even though the material environment provides the stimuli for, and materials for the implementation of, thoughts and ideas. On the other side, he saw materialist and positivist accounts of history and of sociology as lacking purchase on questions of meaning and culture that are the particular subject matter of the human sciences.
In response, Dilthey developed a theory of history influenced by the historian Johann Gustav Droysen (1808–84).14 In a series of articles and books in the 1850s and 1860s, 1860 Droysen responded to the British positivist historian Henry Thomas Buckle (1821–62), and to the growing influence of Mill, who had been introduced in Germany and in translation since the 1840s (WDPH, p. 30). Buckle argues for determinism in human history, contending that human behavior is subject to the same laws as the weather or the motion of the planets, a position quite similar to that of the German materialists. Droysen responds by defending the independence of the methods of the historical sciences.
In his Outline of the Principles of History of 1867, Droysen distinguishes between three methods of knowing. The method of philosophy is to know (erkennen); the method of history to understand (verstehen); and the method of science to explain (erklären). As Beiser (2012) draws from Droysen’s lecture notes, these methods are distinguished as follows: “To know is to derive from first principles; to explain is to subsume under general mathematical laws; and to understand is to interpret or translate, to make someone’s meaning comprehensible to me by putting it in my own terms” (p. 298). Beiser points out that this typology anticipates Dilthey’s own early analysis of understanding. According to Dilthey, the natural sciences explain (erklären), while the human sciences seek to understand (verstehen).15 In his seminal Introduction to the Human Sciences of 1883, Dilthey introduces his own notion of understanding, which he conceives in response to the “historical school,” to positivism, to the hermeneutic tradition, and to German Idealism. The historical school, including Ranke and Droysen, investigate the phenomena as they arise in history, and consider them to be constituted by human action and by context. Dilthey remarks that, while this tradition has been fruitful, it excludes “a link with the analysis of facts of consciousness.”16 The historical school analyzes the phenomena of human history externally, but does not examine the contribution of “epistemology [Erkenntnistheorie] and psychology” to history.
Dilthey’s basic argument for the independence of “understanding” is relatively simple.17
1.Particular events are not the analysanda of history. Rather, the aim of history is to put a given event or view into its context. In the case of an idea, this is studied as an expression of the individual, but where individual expression is conditioned by:
a.cultural and material conditions, and
b.the categories of thought of the individual.
2.The individual’s expression may become part of the cultural background, which in turn influences the ideas of others, which constitute new background categories.
3.(1a) can be studied profitably using the methods of the natural sciences. But (1b) and (2) cannot:
a.(1b) requires inquiry into an individual’s ideas, and
b.(2) is an ongoing process that cannot be limited to a determinate space and time.
Therefore, Dilthey concludes, the methods of the human sciences must be independent of the methods of the natural sciences. Understanding the categories of thought of an individual requires interpreting her expressions as indications of her conceptual framework, that is, employing the methods of understanding. Moreover, the study of the influence of ideas and theories on others requires adopting a large-scale theory regarding the change of concepts and ideas over time. Neither of these are explicitly provided for by the methods of the natural sciences.
A materialist may disagree with the premise (3a) for obvious reasons—for her, ideas are material. Without an antecedent commitment to the notion that ideas are independent of matter, (3a) is not a good argument for the independence of the human sciences from the natural sciences.
But (3b) is more intractable. It is not easy to see how the evolution of theories, and of conceptual frameworks in general, over time can be analyzed using the methods of the natural sciences. We might describe these methods pluralistically, as laboratory research, inductive generalizations, and causal inferences. These methods are not obviously adapted to investigating the relationship between ideas and history. Any particular theory can be evaluated on the validity of its inductive inferences or the accuracy of its predictions. But that will not allow us directly to evaluate the influence of one theory or conceptual framework on another, for example.
The Oxford Handbook of German Philosophy in the Nineteenth Century Page 110
